


Care

by xsabrix



Category: BLYTON Enid - Works, Malory Towers - Enid Blyton
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsabrix/pseuds/xsabrix
Summary: June and Amanda have a row over tennis coaching. June wonders if having learned to care about people and things is more of a curse than a blessing.Oneshot.
Relationships: June Johns/Amanda Chartelow
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Care

June stomped outside of the tennis court, throwing her racket to the ground in anger as she did so.

She wasn’t usually one to lose her temper quite _that_ way; she was more the just-shrug-and-walk-off-whistling type. She rather looked down on girls like Darrell Rivers, who had no control over their emotions and had no qualms in showing the world their raging temper.

But it was such a hot day, and Amanda was being impossible.

” It’s like you’re not even trying!” she had bellowed at June, after the girl had thrown a wild, careless serve.

She _had_ been trying.

But she was tired.

She was tired of Amanda trying to live vicariously through her star pupil, and she was tired of only being seen by the girl as some sort of games-winning machine.

Her relationship with the now sports mistress had always been somewhat rocky, which was to be expected, for they both had strong, stubborn personalities and fiery tempers. However, they got on all right ever since June had saved her life, and even had a special bond of sorts. Problems usually only arose between them when it came to coaching. Amanda would have a tendency to revert to treating her as if she were a second former instead of an eighteen-year-old about to graduate from school, and June would in consequence act like a second former at times.

It was June’s last term at Malory Towers; she had grown a lot since she had been a mere second former, sending nasty notes and being cheeky and defiant to everyone and their mother. She had become more patient, her cutting remarks had softened and while they were still sharp, they were less nasty, and she had learned to care about certain things – although in some cases, June wondered if she wasn’t better off back when she didn’t give a rip about anyone or anything, for caring about things seemed more like a curse than a blessing at times.

Something inside her snapped when Amanda shouted: “You don’t give damn about anything, do you?”

June stomped into the changing rooms, slamming the door behind her as loudly as she could; however, it didn’t put off Amanda from barging in after her.

“Where do you think we’re going? We’re not finished!” she yelled.

“Oh, yes we have,” replied June, keeping her voice light and sing-songy, like she always did when she was on the verge of losing her temper; her usual defense was acting as though she didn’t give a damn. “I’ve had enough. I’m not a free ticket to an Olympic gold medal, Amanda.”

“Not with that attitude you’re not,” snapped Amanda.

“Right. You’re better off without my attitude, and I’m better off without your relentless shouting,” she replied, smiling. “Get yourself someone else to get your glory for you.”

“What? _My_ glory? What are you talking about?” asked Amanda, as confused now as she was angry.

“Oh, don’t act as this isn’t all about you,” muttered June, some of her youthful past spite coming out.

“This is about _you_ , June. I just want you to do well, reach your full potential, and get your dream –“ began Amanda.

“ _My_ dream? That’s _your_ dream! You just want me to get your gold medal for you because you can’t so it yourself! I don’t give a damn about tennis or about winning or about the Olympics. I don’t give a damn about _anything_ , as you know,” she snapped, hardly able to control what was spouting out of her mouth like snake’s venom. “Your legs are useless and you want to replace them with mine. I only agreed because I pitied you, but now I’m done. I don’t care.”

This wasn’t entirely true and June knew it, deep down; she often said sharp, cruel things she didn’t mean when she was angry. She would be lying to herself if she _really_ thought she had agreed to let Amanda coach her for the Olympics just because she had ‘pitied’ the girl; June wasn’t one to do things for people merely because she felt sorry for them. She liked the idea of getting a gold medal, she liked the idea of basking in the glory of winning; she liked the idea of becoming someone in this world – but more than all that, she had agreed because it was important to Amanda, and unfortunately, she cared about her.

But she would never admit that.

Amanda looked as though she had been slapped; her face turned white and she stared at the girl with an indecipherable expression. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then clamped it shut with a firm line. She swiveled around and walked off.

June shrugged to herself, telling herself she didn’t give a damn. She didn’t care about the coaching, or the Olympics, or tennis, or Amanda. After all, the girl only cared about her as a winning champion; she had made that clear.

But that was the curse that came with learning to care; you couldn’t unlearn it. And once you began to care about someone, you couldn’t stop.

* * *

June was in her study, packing away her things; books, ornaments, school trophies and medals. She would be graduating and leaving in a month’s time, and she couldn’t wait to clear out of this place. It wasn’t that she hated school or even disliked it, but she had never truly felt as though she fit in. She never liked the way it tried to mold people into what Malory Towers considered was right; and although she had to admit the place that changed her into a better person, it had also made her weak in certain aspects.

It had taught her to care, and caring made her feel weak.

“Packing already?”

June swiveled around in surprise at the sound of the familiar voice; a voice that hadn’t spoken to her since that argument a few months ago. She nodded tightly and continued untidily cramming things into the suitcase.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m doing a police training course in town, so you’ll still have to see me around. I bet I’ll hear your shouting all the way from there at some poor first former. I pity the next pupil who’ll replace me as your slave.”

Amanda chuckled.

“Nobody could replace you, June,” she replied. “Policewoman, huh? I can see you there.”

“Not quite as glamorous as Olympic athlete, or professional tennis player, but…” shrugged June, tossing more books into the suitcase.

Amanda walked over to her, peering inside the case.

“It’s better if you put in the books before the trophies – you know, because books are flat, and trophies are bulky, so books aren’t likely to lie flat on top of them,” commented the girl, her voice tinged with slight amusement. June shot her a withering look.

“Always with the useful tips,” she remarked dryly, dropping the books on top of the trophies defiantly, making the other girl wince.

“I always put away my trophies carefully away in a box so they don’t get marked,” said Amanda.

“I bet you do,” replied June scornfully. “But we’ve established I don’t care, so…” she dropped more books on top, knowing she was acting like an immature brat.

Amanda was silent for a moment as the girl continued to cram her stuff inside the bulging case.

“I think you do care,” she finally replied.

June gave a dry laugh.

“You didn’t seem to think I did last time we spoke.”

“Well, you act as though you don’t! And you have such potential. You have a gift, June; you should have let me bring it out to shine instead of – “

“That’s all you care, about isn’t it? My potential,” snapped June. “Using me to get medals and trophies and – “

“June, I don’t give a rat’s ass about bloody medals. Or trophies, or…” the large girl ran a hand through her short black hair impatiently. “Or about _using you_ to get them. I know I pushed you hard – but it’s only because I know you’re capable of great things, June. I see such great things in you, and I want the world to see them too.”

“You always got so ecstatic whenever I got a trophy,” frowned June. “And whenever I lost, it was like – I was nothing.”

Amanda furrowed her brow, puzzled.

“What?”

“Like I wasn’t worth it,” shrugged June.

“June, that’s not true. When have I ever given up on you?” sighed Amanda.

“Well, you made it very clear that I wasn’t of use to you anymore after I walked away. You didn’t speak to me after that.”

“Of _use_ to me?” said Amanda incredulously. “June, you’re not something I _used_. That’s _exactly_ why I didn’t talk to you anymore; you claimed I was using your legs because I can’t use mine. It was a low blow, and it hurt me, June; what did you expect?”

“Well, I felt used!” snapped June defensively. “You were shouting at me, and telling me I wasn’t even trying – when all I ever did was try – and saying I didn’t care when all I ever cared about was - “she felt herself choking up and took a deep breath, angrier than ever with herself; damn this caring, and damn this weakness. She turned away abruptly and continued throwing the books into the suitcase, on top of the trophies, each one falling with a sharp thud.

“June,” murmured Amanda behind her, her usually booming, loud voice now soft, putting a hand on her shoulder. The girl ignored her, continuing her packing tirade.

“June, come on,” she insisted gently, taking her hands in her own and making her turn around to face her. June stopped and stood there for a while, chin defiantly stuck out as she felt her eyes welling up, letting the tall girl rub her stiff back softly.

“I’m sorry,” said Amanda softly.

June shook her head angrily, then sighed, wavering slightly.

“No, I am,” she replied gruffly. “I shouldn’t have said that about your legs.”

“The June Johns apologizing. I never thought I’d see the day,” smirked Amanda.

June smiled despite herself and forced herself to look up, meeting the taller girl’s brown eyes.

“Amanda…I do care,” she whispered.

“I know you do,” murmured Amanda, stroking her dark hair.

“But not about the glory, or even about tennis that much…I care about you. A bit too much, if I’m being honest.”

Amanda was only puzzled for a split second before the other girl pressed her lips to hers, a desperate, quick kiss, before pulling away, her eyes wide and fearful of the other girl’s reaction. Amanda had only ever seen the tough, brazen June looking scared once, when she had seen her almost drowning that day, her legs hitting against the rocks, and seeing it now pulled at her heartstrings harder than anything else ever had.

She leaned down to kiss the girl, wrapping her arms around her waist, pulling her up, smiling into her mouth as she heard a soft sound escaping from it. June wrapped her hands around the big girl’s neck, then grabbed at her hair, deepening the kiss, electricity flowing through every part of her body.

“I care too, idiot,” muttered Amanda into her mouth, cupping her face and kissing her again. She leaned down and nuzzled her neck gently. “About you. I only ever wanted you to shine. I would never, ever use you, June. Don’t ever think that,” she whispered, breaking away and looking into her eyes seriously.

“Shut up,” mumbled June, rolling her eyes at such soppiness, thinking, as she leaned into the other girl’s strong embrace, that maybe learning to care hadn’t been so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Being quarantined has definitely made me quite productive when it comes to writing fanfiction, lol! Hope you enjoyed this!


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